to her—a forest with gray trees and purple-blue grass—but so was the creepy non-sky overhead. So was the void that came for her in her dreams. So was the fact that a bit of it seemed to live inside her now. Or she lived inside it. Whatever. Everything was unnerving. It all just blended together.
She had the overwhelming desire to go home. Not her boxcar—not her condo—but that ephemeral, childhood place that she imagined had been real. Somewhere that was more than a feeling than a location. A place of safety, of simplicity, and of comfort.
Walked through the trees, it was only when she stepped on a stick that she realized she had forgotten to put shoes on. Taking a left off the dirt path, she wove her way through the gray-barked evergreens. She wanted to hide, and this seemed as good a place as any.
Pressing her back to a particularly large tree, she slid down to the dirt. Plucking a piece of the blue-purple grass, she twirled it between her fingers.
I should have known.
I shouldn’t have let myself care.
I should have just enjoyed the sex and walked away before I stupidly got attached.
She shut her eyes and leaned her head back against the bark, letting out a long, wavering breath. Slowly, her tears began to flow less readily.
He can’t love me. He doesn’t want to.
The words Simon had said were cruel and cut deep—but they weren’t meant for her. Namely, she suspected, so he could keep “wetting his cock” with her. She laughed once, a disheartened, sad sound. “What’m I doing with my life?”
“Are you honestly asking me?”
She yelped in surprise, nearly falling over. Whirling, she saw someone sitting next to her, his back against the tree. It took a second to recognize him without his makeup. Clown. Sighing, she slumped back against the bark. “Are you even here right now?”
“Meaning what, exactly?” He looked down at himself.
“If someone walked up, would I be talking to thin air?”
“I honestly don’t rightly know.” He shrugged a shoulder and smiled. “But I’m everywhere. So yes, I’m here. I’m the trees, the sky, the grass…this place is me.”
She went silent for a long time. “Would it kill you to summon up some clouds once in a while?”
He laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. She smiled sheepishly—it wasn’t really that funny. But she suspected Harrow Faire didn’t hear many jokes. When he stopped laughing, he nudged her elbow. “We’ll see. Maybe someday.”
She looked off into the strange, ambiently lit forest. “Why did you show me that?”
“What, Simon’s temper tantrum?”
“Yeah.”
Clown went quiet for a moment. “Well, I was taking your advice.”
“What advice?”
“About smacking the hornet’s nest with a stick.”
“That wasn’t advice.”
“It wasn’t?” He blinked. “Oh.”
It was her turn to laugh. She didn’t know why it was funny, but it was. When she looked over at him, he was smiling. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re not exactly human.”
“Oh, how so?”
“You’re a giant, man-eating murder-circus.”
“You do like to say that. It’s catchy, I’ll give you that.” He pulled up a knee and draped his arm over it. “Define what it means to be human. Is it our bodies? Our mortality? Or is it our experiences? Is it our joy, our loss, our suffering, and our happiness? Our love and our pain? Because I will admit that I have no human body. I have no human soul. But what I do have, dear Cora—is more of the wealth of the human existence than any other creature who has ever lived.”
“You’re saying you’re…more human than human?” She snickered.
“How is that funny?”
“Nothing. Sorry. Song lyrics.” She waved her hand dismissively. “I guess I see your point.”
“Now, that isn’t to say that I understand any of you. Or that I can predict anything you do. I try—but you’re all utterly confounding.” He sighed. “I try my best to make you all happy, protect you, give you what you need…but still, you find reasons to be miserable.”
“I’m miserable right now because of what Simon said.” She paused. “Thanks for the fish, by the way.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiled briefly then looked off into the woods himself. “Simon had to say the things he did, and he had to say them to you.”
“Why?”
“To hurt you. It will force him to decide whether he means them or not.”
“It sounded like he did.”
“It was meant to. He was trying—quite literally—to convince himself.”
“He can’t love me. He’ll shatter.”
“He believes that. It’s yet to be seen if that’s true. Might be,